Vengeance
by Sharknado1010
Summary: A semi-AU for most of season 2. It will mainly be centred around the OC I have made but it will also include white rose and a lot of RWBY and JNPR interactions. The OC will be quite a complex and damaged character, but I don't want to give anything away.


**A/N: So this is my first story on this site so I can't guarantee that it will be any good. But I decided to give it a go, and there is no cover art because I'm about as artistic as a slug and I'm a broke ass study. Anyway I hope you enjoy it and hopefully this is the first chapter of many.**

 **disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

The white fang camp was fairly quiet now, the soldiers had just finished lunch and the ones not on sentry duty had to find other ways to spend their time before their next shift. Most where currently training in the large courtyard, they are members of a terrorist group after all. Others sat in the main tent reading or listening to music. The rest took part in various card games. The white fang has no money to gamble however. Instead the currency in these games was shifts and favours. The lucky ones either didn't work or had afternoon shifts for guard duty, the unlucky ones worked the night shift. Nights are the most dangerous time to be on duty for a guard, it's when the Grimm or anyone with the smallest amount of common sense are most likely to attack. It is currently, without a doubt, the worst time to launch an assault on a heavily guarded terrorist camp. But Oswald was never one for taking the easy way. Especially not when he had Vengeance to do the dirty work.

"Are you sure about doing this _now_ , Oswald. I still think we should do this at night. Quick and quiet, get what we need and leave." said a voice from Oswald's right side.

"You just don't know how to have fun do you Ozzy." The words said in such a sadistic way could only have come from one person, Vengeance.

The three of them stood up on a ridge above the Faunus camp, about 200 metres away from the camp. Far enough away so that they could clearly see what was going on but still be able to talk to each other. They all wore their intricate silver armour and helmet, and they had been since they left the nearby town to get here about a week ago. Each of them carrying their five blades, two katanas, one strapped to each hip. Two straight swords strapped to their backs one pointing up to left and the other to the right. And finally the small tanto knife each of them had strapped at the base of their backs. Of course the weapons aren't as simple as that, this is remnant after all. The weapons could all be turned into different blades to suit either the scenario or the type of fighting style of the wielder. The final item they always carry is their skull mask that they wear during most fights. Of the three of them only Ozzy dislikes the masks, whereas Vengeance never takes his off. When not being worn it is strapped above their tanto.

"Massacring entire camps of armed guards isn't something anyone does for fun Vengeance. This isn't a game." Ozzy replied.

"Oh, but it is Ozzy. And I'm having such fun". Vengeance replied with his usual short, almost maniacal laugh.

Ozzy went to make a reply but was quickly cut off by Oswald, "How many times have you two had this talk? We both knew what would happen when we accepted his help. And we both know why we need him."

"I know", Ozzy responded and Oswald could see how upset Ozzy was by the situation. He watched as Ozzy stood up and made his way deeper into the forest. "Call on me when you're done, and don't take too long."

"No promises", Vengeance says to Ozzy's back.

"The group sent to check the perimeter should be back in about 20 minutes, we need to do this quick"

"Good, I always love to see others opinions of my work." Vengeance says staring at the camp below. "So can I have them?" The question asked by a voice was full of both excitement and, what could only be described as, hunger at the thought of the blood bath he was about to create.

Turning back around to bring the outpost into view, Oswald grabs his mask from behind his back. The skulls mouth is closed but it wields a wide grin almost spread from cheek to cheek. Rather than normal teeth the grin is filled with two rows of sharp almost animalistic teeth. The teeth along with almost all of the mask are a very clean cream colour, just a bit lighter in colour than an egg shell. The only part of the mask that is not this egg shell colour is the eye holes. They have been covered by very expensive one sided dust-enhanced glass. This glass looks black when someone looks at a person wearing it but does not affect the vision of the wearer. If the wearer channels part of their aura into the mask they can activate the hidden dust etching. When activated the dust etching forms red marks on the teeth, lines coming from the eyes and a circle with 12 points in each eye. The dust etching was put there for Vengeance, Oswald never saw the practical use of wasting aura to colour in a mask. Using his right hand to put on the mask as he says the three words that will result in the bloody death of everyone in the white fang outpost below. "They're all yours".

* * *

For the first time in almost two weeks, Brent had managed to get the afternoon shift. Almost two whole weeks of sleepless days due to the constant noise of the camp. Almost two whole weeks of being terrified that the Grimm would decide to take him during the night. Almost two whole weeks of eating whatever inedible crap was served for the night shifts meals, to be fair the daytime meals aren't much better but at least they're warm.

And all because his squad had been ambushed by Beowolves before they could complete their mission. "Stupid fucking Grimm", Brent muttered under his breath.

It was meant to be a month but he had been lucky enough to win a game of cards against a particularly cocky, dog faunus. He had just won five games in a row to accumulate an impressive three months of free time and afternoon shifts. Brent chuckled to himself as he remembered the look on the faunus's face when he won. "Well his loss my gain".

Standing up he had a quick search around his lookout tower. His was the last in a row of four towers that overlooked the gate, the two in the middle holding two guards each. With a quick nod to one of the guards in another tower he sat back down, not even bothering to commit to a full search when he knew there would be nothing there.

It's a fairly large compound as far as the white fang is concerned. Holding about 300 men at max, although currently it was about 150 with 30 of those patrolling the perimeter. The layout was fairly simple, the east side was used entirely for what limited training the white fang could provide. Mainly physical workouts and very little weapons training due to ammo being in relatively short supply, illegally obtaining weapons is expensive and stealing has gotten increasingly harder.

The west is used as a storage and armoury, holding all of the weapons and stolen SDC dust containers. As well as a fuelling station for the camps single bullhead transport.

In the centre of the camp lies the main tent for meals and announcements. Large enough to seat 200 people at once and hold the cooks and all of their equipment, it's quite impressive for a tent.

The south side holds the barracks. A collection of over-crowded tents, the largest of them was being used as the command tent and sleeping quarters of the increasing illusive commander.

On the North side was just barricades and towers. The whole camp was surrounded by a large barbed wire fence. The camp had been constantly growing during the year since it had been founded, but due to recent events only one type of development had been taking place.

The commander had been focused on upgrading security after the reports started coming of camps being wiped out. It wasn't unusual for an outpost to go dark every now and again, it was usually down that bastard Schnee's Special Forces. But never more than one every couple of months. However In the past 3 months 7 Camps have gone silent. And these camps had all been cleaned out, nothing but body parts and writing in blood. Occasionally even a report of bodies being arranged into a crude version of the Schnee crest, a twelve point snowflake, around the commander of the outpost in whatever way he had been brutally murdered. There were only ever a couple of survivors that would recall the horror of the attack. A single man in silver armour with four swords and a skull face. Only one word was written in blood. Vengeance.

"Haha", Brent let out a muffled but genuine laugh. "What a load of bull shit", he muttered again. It's just a bunch of propaganda, some new way of motivating us to work harder. Or in some cases work at all. Hell if someone wants to try and attack the base I'd almost thank them. Guard duty during the afternoon was still boring just like at night. It just meant you don't have to worry about Grimm as much.

"Uuuugh", Brent quietly groaned as he stood up giving into boredom enough to carry out another scan of the area in front of him. Only this time when he looked something caught his eye. Although it was about 150 metres away Brent could still see it quite clearly, due him being a cat faunus.

It appeared to be a silver figure slowly walking out of the tree line towards the base.

Brent had to do a double take to make sure he wasn't just seeing things. But when he looked again the man was still walking towards the base.

As he processed what he was seeing his brain came to its own conclusion.

As the silver man got closer Brent's eyes could make out two objects poking out from behind his back. Brent almost froze in terror.

This couldn't be happening. He must be dreaming or something. Brent quickly turned to the tower to his right. Hoping beyond all reason his eyes where deceiving him.

Of the two people in the tower, the man that Brent had nodded to earlier had an expression of terror on his face that must have been a match to the one that Brent was wearing right now. The other, a deer faunus, was shouting for the man to stop as he raised his scoped rifle to aim at him.

But the marksman never got the chance to aim at the silver warrior. Just before he could bring the scope to eye Brent saw a flash of silver, followed by a spray of red.

The Faunus's neck had been half severed by a Naginata that was embedded in the back wall of the tower. The deer faunus didn't even flinch as his body went limp and gravity started to take hold.

But before he could hit the ground, what looked like a grappling hook grabbed shaft of the Naginata. A moment later the spear was pulled from the wall and brought back to the silver warrior. Who now stood only about 100 metres away.

Brent stared for a bit too long in shock at the warrior before him. From this distance he could clearly make out the skull mask under the silver helmet. The skull had red marks on its eyes, teeth and coming down from the eyes. But the red marks weren't exclusive to his mask. Brent could make out a bunch of lines in red covering the length of the warriors left arm. As well as a large circle with 12 points, that was a match to the ones in its eyes, that rests in the centre of its chest piece. Brent thought that that symbol looked very familiar to him but he couldn't quite place it. The silver man definitely did almost look like something from a nightmare.

The mechanical sound of the Naginata changing form was brought the cat Faunus back to reality. Looking at the warrior's right hand he saw that instead of the long Naginata he now held a katana.

Remembering what he was supposed to be doing, Brent made for his rifle.

It was leaning against the left arm of his camping chair, but in his haste to retrieve the weapon he ended up kicking his canvas chair. Letting out a quick curse he quickly threw himself at the rifle on the floor.

That was when he heard the first scream. The initial high pitch of the scream of pain was quickly replaced by a gargling noise.

The cat Faunus had to stop himself from retching as he pictured what had just happened to his comrade.

He quickly recovered and returned to his task of arming himself. But completing this task was made incredibly difficult by the fact that his hands where shaking uncontrollably.

Dropping the rifle for the second time he let out a quiet, but still desperate, plea. But his sound was quickly drowned out by another pair of screams. The first was a cry of pure agony. Quickly followed by another gargling cry.

Trying his best to block out the noise, and focus on his rifle. Finally, after a display that would have surely earned him a weeks' worth of laps around the outpost, he picked up his rifle.

Letting out a small sigh of relief he turned around to bring his weapon to bear on the silver clad aggressor. Only to immediately drop it as he saw what waited for him as he turned around.

No more than three feet away from him was the man that could not be real.

The thing that had put such fear in the hearts of most of the fuanus in the camp.

The demon that had managed to clear out three other look-out towers from 100 metres away in the 5 seconds that Brent had taken to grab his rifle.

And he was crouched on the wall of his tower staring at an object in his left hand. Which turned out to be the severed head of the Deer Faunus that had tried to aim his rifle at him.

Brent slowly took a step back, but was stopped by the other wall of his tower. Unfortunately this seemed to draw the attention of the otherwise occupied living nightmare in front of him. He could almost feel the intensity of its gaze.

At this point Brent knew he had two options. He could try and go for his rifle that lay in front of him and kill the silver demon, although he would almost definitely be killed before he could even touch it. The other was the siren that was at his right hand side. It would alert the rest of the camp that they were under attack, but he would be killed the moment the siren sounded.

The thing in front of him seemed to read his mind as it said, "Make your choice, I won't stop you". The excitement in its voice sent a shiver down Brent spine.

But Brent still couldn't decide. It was his job to sound the alarm and alert the camp, but he didn't want to die. And he didn't think his rifle would do much against the thing in front of him.

He was distracted as the source of his indecision dropped of its wall and stood before him. Despite the metal armour it didn't make a sound as it landed. His eyes were drawn to that mask again. But its gaze seemed to be fixed on the severed head again. "I'm getting bored, hurry up". It said, as it threw away the head of his fellow white fang member and brought his gaze back down onto Brent.

Brent made his decision. He didn't want to end up like his fellow Faunus had. Being this monsters play thing. And after all he has been feeling pretty lucky recently.

His mind made up Brent took a dive for his rifle, grabbing it and bringing it to aim at the silver man in front of him in record time.

Except it was no longer in front of him, turning his head to his left he saw it beside him. Utilising his faster reflexes as a cat faunus he snapped his rifle around to bring it to bare on the silver armour. He pulled the trigger of his rifle but nothing happened.

Confused he fired again. But this time his arms felt lighter.

Looking down at the rifle in his hands he saw why.

His rifle lay at his feet with hands and part of his arm still holding onto it. His left arm had been severed halfway along the forearm and his right hand at been severed at the wrist. He hadn't even felt let alone seen the sword stroke that had done this.

The realisation that he had lost his arms caused a huge wave of pain to crash over him. He fell to the ground screaming.

He could hear breathing in his right ear. He knew who it was and it caused him to curl up like a small child, cradling what was left of his limbs close to his chest like a small child.

"You made the right choice, it's so much more fun when they try to fight back", said the voice in his right ear ending with a sickening chuckle. "You'll bleed out in about a minute. And if you're lucky, you'll remain conscious long enough to hear the screams of your comrades as I slaughter them". Any words the demon might have said where drowned out by the sound of siren going off.

Brent was aware of the warm liquid that was covering his left side. Which he eventually recognised as his own blood. However despite the warm feeling on his left side he realised he was feeling very cold, and was getting quite tired.

He knew he was about to lose conscious and that he wouldn't wake up.

In the last few seconds of his life Brent heard a loud almost hysterical laugh that was quickly drowned out by the screams of his brother in arms.

* * *

Vengeance chuckled to himself as he jumped off of the tower landing on the white pad he had almost subconsciously placed before he jumped. "That was a good warm up, but now it's time to get the party started". Using more of the white pads to cover the 100 metres between the base of the tower and the large tent in the centre in little over a second.

Not one to use a door unless he had to, Vengeance drew his twin katanas and slashed an opening in the canvas. And stepped through.

Upon entering the tent Vengeance was met with slight disappointment. He had expected a small armed welcoming party, instead he found five faunus trying to put on their outfits. Before the alarm went off they must have been playing some sort of card game, because the cards and pieces were all laying on the floor. The table and a few of the chair had been knocked over in their haste to get ready. Parts of uniforms lay in small piles around them, the Grimm masks lying on top.

They weren't even armed.

Not that he has a problem killing unarmed people, it's just that killing is more fun when your opponent has a weapon as well. It adds a certain degree of danger. But if these men aren't armed then that means the rest of the base probably isn't either. So the least he could do would be to take his time with these men to let everyone else get ready. These thoughts managed to cheer him back up again and allowed him to focus on the five confused faunus inside the tent.

As he fully stepped inside the tent and the faunus had a chance to see him properly. Their expressions quickly changed from confusion to a mix of disbelief and terror. They looked like they had just seen the boogie man. And Vengeance loved it.

Slowly walking forward a thousand different ideas and images filled Vengeance's head. All of them where brutal and bloody.

He could flay alive them one by one, and carve his symbol into their chest.

Or maybe he would remove their arms and legs and watch them race, offering a quick death to the winner.

The possibilities sent excited shivers up his spine. Although he is still limited by time, and the other two would get really pissed off if he took too long.

Finally deciding on how he would deal with these white fang members. He placed a yellow glyph under one of his feet to significantly speed up his movement. Then he raised the katana in his right, Jury, hand up to his cheek and reversed his grip. A small pulse of his aura started the extension of Jury's hilt into the length of a small spear. As his sword changed he also formed a white glyph in front of the spears blade, this greatly increased the speed of the spear when thrown. Now perfectly balanced for throwing. Vengeance did just that.

Due to the curve of the blade it flew in an odd way. But Vengeance had practiced enough that he compensated perfectly. He didn't bother putting his weight behind the throw. He knew his strength combined with the power given to the spear by the white glyph was more than enough to pierce whatever it hit.

He watched the naginata fly through the air and connect with his targets throat. And the blade effortlessly passed through, parting flesh as it dug deeper into the exposed neck. It severed the man's spinal column like it was paper. It stopped when the guard hit the now dead faunus's wind pipe. Just like Vengeance had wanted.

But the unlucky faunus was instead thrown a further 15 feet across the inside of the tent by the force of the impact. Finally coming to rest as the blade was embedded in one of the wooden poles keeping the tent up. The sounds of some of the faunus's bones breaking as they violently came to rest against the wooden pole made the hair on his neck stand up.

He could easily use his hook or glyphs to retrieve the spear and continue the killing. But if he was being honest with himself, he loved seeing people's reaction to his work. Almost as much as carrying them out. So he waited for a few seconds as the white fang soldiers came to terms with what they had just seen.

They hadn't seen the sword transform into a spear or even seen it being thrown. One second the man in silver was holding a sword, then suddenly his hand was empty and one of their friends was pinned to a wooden pole. By a spear through the throat.

Vengeance watching as they stood, seemingly frozen in fear. Basking in every moment it took their brains to process the horrifying image they had just seen.

In an instant, almost as quick as the death of their friend had been, they came to their senses. To their credit two of the terrorists went into a defensive stance, ready for another attack. Of the remaining two, one released the contents of his stomach, and the last faunus turned and ran. Sealing his gruesome fate.

He loves it when they run.

Deciding to leave Jury imbedded in the pole, he brought his remaining Katana, Judge, into a two handed grip. He needed to take out the three white fang quickly, so that the runner didn't get too far.

Vengeance made a path of white glyphs straight towards the faunus that was vomiting, then set up another three all at different angles. These glyph would redirect his movement, allowing him to keep his momentum as he attacked from different angles. Taking all three out in one fluid motion.

Taking off in a sprint, combined with the speed boost from the glyphs had him reach the still retching faunus by the time his comrades had realised that he had moved.

As he passed by the faunus he made a quick downward slice, easily removing the terrorists head from his shoulders.

He stopped for an instant on the white glyph that he had aimed up in the air. With a little jump, which he had perfected through years of practice, it launched him into the air. He was stopped by a glyph in the air that was aimed at his next target, and with another little jump he was launched at breakneck speeds down towards him. His blade embedded itself in the chest of his next victim.

Before he could come to a stop he performed a quick roll that took him onto another glyph. Vengeance quickly kicked off and was given a boost by the glyph which he used to allow his sword to effortlessly pass straight through the torso of the last of the three terrorists. He came to rest just as the head of his first kill hit the ground.

More than satisfied with his latest work he focused on the runner. Who had now travelled a good 15 meters, which left him about 10 away from the exit.

Chuckling slightly at the cowards pathetic attempt at an escape he aimed his right arm at the fleeing target and fired. The hook flew the air and wrapped itself around the white fangs left foot. And with a quick pull he fell flat on his face and started being dragged back towards Vengeance who was almost giddy with anticipation.

The faunus did not come quietly however, he was some type of fox faunus. He had long claws that made large cuts in the dirt as he was dragged screaming away from the exit of the tent. Turning to his left he saw the bifurcated body of the faunus that had been his best friend. His eyes had lost any sign of life and his innards where spilling out onto the floor. The sight that was too vivid to be a dream caused him to pause in his screaming.

He felt a pair of hands grab him and turn him over, he tried to lash out but found that his limbs where restrained by some sort of glowing blue circles.

"You're not going anywhere, well at least not until I'm done with you". Said the silver armoured monster that had slaughtered his friends, as it made its way towards the wooden pole. The tone of voice caused Goosebumps to appear on his arms.

"W-What do you m-mean, done w-with me?" the faunus asked, unable to hide the fear in his voice.

"I was planning on flaying you, I haven't done that in a while. Although I am open to suggestions." Vengeance responded as he ripped Jury from the pole, the attached body falling down limp at its base. He began cleaning his sword before returning it to its sheath on his right hand side.

As far as Katanas go Judge and Jury where fairly plain. Their blades bore no inscriptions, or etchings. The scabbards where black with a glossy finish. The wooden hilt was made of a pale, almost white wood, with a black wrapping over the top. The only parts that stood out where the circular guard and the kashira at the end of the hilt. Both of these where a dark red that was inlaid with the same dust that made the patterns on the rest of his armour, meaning that they would glow a bright red when aura was put through it. The kashira like the blade was very plain in design, just smooth, rounded metal. The guard was the only part of the blades that are personalised. They bore a small version of Vengeances symbol, the 12 pointed circle.

"F-Flay me! W…Why?" Came the stuttered reply.

Now that Jury was clean, Vengeance started going over Judge. As he looked over his precious sword he moved closer to the petrified faunus lying before him. When he was satisfied it was appropriately clean he crouched beside the faunus and placed the sword beside him. "Because I quite literally have some time to kill while your fellow terrorists get ready, "he let out a quick, bone chilling laugh before continuing. "So I thought what better way to spend it than killing you".

The faunus started crying before uttering an unintelligible remark.

"Well I best get started, I only have about 2 minutes before they'll come in. I would like to apologise in advance if I mess up a bit, I'm a bit out of practice and I'm having to rush". He said standing up forcing the faunus's glyph restraints to raise him to an almost standing position.

He started laughing out loud as he prepared Judge for the incision, and the faunus soon traded his pathetic wailing, for screams of agony as he made the first cut down the white fangs back. Vengeance took great care not to mess up. Going as slowly as he felt he could. Every scream only fuelling his desire to cut further.

However after only 15 seconds the screams where cut off as the faunus fell unconscious. Vengeance let out a long sigh of disappointment, the second since entering this tent. It's no fun if they don't scream. Upon inspecting he found that the faunus was actually dead. And that made Vengeance angry.

"You're not allowed to die unless I let you!" He shouted at the corpse. In his anger he brought jury down on the faunus's head. Slicing down from head to groin, cleaving the terrorist cadaver clean in two. Ruining his work. Which made him even angrier.

"FUCK!" he screamed as he kicked the head of the faunus that had been throwing up. It went flying across the tent and collided into the farthest away wooden pole with a wet crunch.

Deciding that he had given the terrorists long enough to get ready he stormed out of the tent. Drawing Jury as he walked.

After exiting the tent he was not disappointed. Before him stood about 60 armed white fang soldiers standing in ordered lines, their guns all loaded and aimed at him.

His previous anger forgotten at the prospect of fight ahead. He watched silently as the centre of the lines parted as a male deer faunus with impressively large antlers stepped forward. His uniform wasn't like the normal one worn by normal white fang members. Instead he had a bit more armour covering his arms and legs. He also had several markings on his left chest piece, denoting some kind of commendation. But he didn't care enough to think about it. If Vengeance didn't know any better he could easily have been confused as the commander.

The white fang captain gave him an angry stare. He drew a large improvised sword. It looked like someone got a sheet of metal and spent 5 minutes grinding it to an edge. It was uneven, and had a couple of welded spikes.

The deer faunus levelled his sword at him. Issuing an unspoken challenge.

And Vengeance Gladly accepted.

He used another yellow glyph to speed up his movements, then he reversed the grip of jury. Then the skull faced warrior lay down a line of white glyphs that led directly to the left of the challenging faunus. Laying down glyphs used to take a reasonable amount of focus and it was almost impossible to do whilst moving, but through his rigorous training it now comes as naturally to him as breathing.

Then he kicked off, the white glyphs propelling him forward towards his adversary. But as he got nearer to the captain he activated some of the red dust stored in his gauntlets. This increased his strength allowing him to it a lot harder. He did this because the faunus almost definitely had a much stronger aura than his comrades and he wouldn't go down in one stroke.

And that's why when Vengeance reached him he slashed with both Judge and Jury. Aiming Judge for where his head and neck connected. And Jury at where his neck connected to his torso. The combination of the speed of the two sword strikes, the power behind them and the skill of the wielder meant that the blades past right through the white fang captains strengthened aura and into his exposed neck. Slicing through the flesh with sickening ease.

Vengeance only took a moment to appreciate the skill behind his latest kill, and the fact that the White fang seemed to love exposing their necks. Not covering them at all. Before moving onto his next target.

Unlike in the tent he couldn't afford to let the soldiers recover, because 60 armed terrorists posed a serious threat. Even for him.

The dear faunus hadn't even hit the ground before Vengeance had already killed another 3 white fang.

Vengeance had decided to go for quick, killing strikes due to both the number of faunus surrounding him and the limited time he had left. But that didn't mean he wasn't enjoying himself, in fact the truth is far from that. Vengeance just enjoyed it in a different way to torture and fear. There was something about killing that Vengeance inherently enjoyed, but he couldn't quite explain what. He just knew that he lived for it.

Another second went along with the death of another white fang, Judge deflecting a heavy blow from the faunus's rifle, whilst jury removed the top 3 inches of his skull.

The terrorists recovered from the death of their commander surprisingly quick. They started splitting into three sections. In the middle, where Vengeance currently was, they dropped their rifles and started drawing crude melee weapons. Attempting to take down the silver blizzard of death with pipe wrenches and tire irons. The other two sections fell back and formed themselves into two small firing squads. Preparing to fire at him if either he killed all of or enough of the white fang locked in the brutal melee.

Two more seconds went by followed by the death of three more white fang, one due to friendly fire. A large bull faunus brought down a large sledge hammer onto Vengeance. He made a small side step to his right, just enough to let the hammer fall a mere inch from his face. But more than enough for it to connect with the skull of the monkey faunus that had tried to stab him in the back with a small shiv. The monkey's pitiful aura broke on contact and the hammer carried on down to the now unprotected skull, which almost exploded from the impact. His body was thrown to the ground with such force that it broke the already dead faunus's legs. Immediately after the hammer had struck the white fangs head, he had turned and formed a small white glyph under his left foot. Using the glyph he plunged Judge straight into the chest of the defenceless bull faunus, and slashed Jury across the throat of a white fang member that was preparing to strike the silver warrior where he had stood not a second ago.

Finding that he really enjoyed seeing the bull faunus kill his comrade. Vengeance adopted that tactic instead. As four white fang moved towards him, the middle two armed with crude swords and the outer two armed with different blunt bludgeons. He put himself in a defensive stance, and waited the almost painfully long amount of time for them to strike.

And when they did they co-ordinated their attack well. One of the sword wielder went for an overhead strike and the other made for a lunge. Whilst the two bludgeoners tried to flank him. Placing a small white glyph beneath each of his furthermost aggressors. With a quick back step he raised his arms and fired a hook at the faunus to his far left and right. The moment they had wrapped around their targets, he made a swiping motion so that his arms ended up on different sides of his body. The two unlucky faunus where flung right into the paths of the oncoming blades. The faunus on his right was brought under the downward swinging sword. The wepaon embedded itself in his torso, killing him instantly. The man on the left was skewered through the spin by the lunging swordsman, trapping his blade.

Taking full advantage of the fact that the two remaining white fangs weapons where currently trapped, Vengeance reversed the grips on his swords, summoned a white glyph beneath his feet and lunged forward. The two katanas easily bifurcating their latest victims.

After quickly dispatching a four more white fang, Vengeance started to grow bored of using his swords. So he decided to use his glyphs.

By themselves the glyphs are harmless, they are only tools that he uses to enhance his fighting capabilities. But Vengeance had eventually discovered, well Oswald discovered and then taught the others, that he could channel dust into his glyphs that could turn them into deadly weapons. If he channelled dust into smaller glyphs they would break on impact, acting as both a delivering system and an activator for the expended dust. Or he can continuously channel a specific type of dust into a larger glyph to create a far more deadly effect, but this took quite a toll on both the casters aura and his stamina.

As far as the smaller ones went Vengeance found he could control several dozen at once, although using that continuously had a tendency to use up the dust reserves in his gauntlets and greaves.

Placing two small white glyphs under his feet he quickly used to slowly carry him into the air, making it seem like he could float. He then started summoning his small glyphs, each taking only the smallest fraction of a second to bring into reality and infuse with dust. Fire was his favourite to use. Not only did it look breath-taking as dozens of small bursts of flame went off in front of eyes. But the screams of men on fire was like music to his ears.

The two white fang firing in squads in front of him seemed to be frozen in time for a few seconds as they saw the silver armoured monster that was butchering their friends seemingly float into the sky. Then he started to become surrounded by small red circles that almost seemed to be orbiting his airborne body. They ordered themselves into four lines that flew around him, never straying from their path that formed a perfect sphere.

The sudden calm that had occurred was finally broken as the glowing red circles suddenly flew towards the white fang. Flying as on continuous straight line they hit the white fang Vengeance's far left first. The ranks of the faunus suddenly became filled with bursts of fire, spreading anything flammable if touched. In less than two seconds the ordered ranks of the Faunus had been reduced to a screaming horde of burning terrorists.

The few white fang that where in once piece from the first group turned and ran at the sight.

Descending back down onto the ground Vengeance took a moment to enjoy the screams coming from all around him. But he couldn't enjoy them for long, he still had a job to do. And time was ticking.

Using the other ability that his semblance granted him vengeance started summoning. But not they Glyphs that he had made before. No, this time he summoned some of his fallen foes to help him.

This was probably the weirdest power that the trio held in their arsenal. With a just a thought and a bit of aura he could summon someone, or something that he has killed. When summoned they had almost a spectral appearance, they glowed a light blue and where slightly translucent.

When summoned, the spectres where loyal to a fault obeying your command to a fault. However giving them a command took a lot of concentration. Thus meaning that maintaining complete control over a summon took a considerable amount of effort. Making it easier just to give one or two simple but specific commands.

All three of them had their favourite types of summons. Ozzy prefers to summon large grimm, but only when he has to. Oswald prefers to summon large grimm and some of the white fang commanders that they have killed. Vengeance prefers Beowolves. They hunt in packs so they are easy to both summon in large numbers and orders only have to be issued to the alpha, so they are easy to control. He also appreciates their tendency to tear their victims apart.

He summoned up around 20 of the largest bewolves he has ever fought, all of them alphas and elders. And commands them to finish off every in the camp, but to ignore the command tent.

With their command issued they spread around the camp on their hunt. Seeking new prey with an eagerness that impresses Vengeance.

His next summon was a small group of the faunus that he had just massacred. He sent them a command to gather their bodies into his symbol. He chuckled to himself at thought of having ordered the white fang to essentially mutilate their own corpses.

His fun over, Vengeance turned around and walked towards the command tent. Where his target was waiting for him.

While walking to the tent he could occasionally hear growls mixed with the sound of screams, meaning that his beowolves where doing their job.

It only took Vengeance 3 minutes to walk to the command tent, meaning that it was about 10 minutes since he had started the mission from on top of the ridge. Now standing directly outside he couldn't help but look down at the list of names that adorned his left forearm, or more accurately what was left of the list. Out of the 11 names that had been etched into his left gauntlet, only 4 remained.

He had to take a moment to calm himself down. He was going to kill the faunus but first he had to get information on the other three names on his wrist.

After about 15 seconds he decided he was calm enough and he cut his way into the tent.

Upon entering, Vengeance saw only one faunus, he was leaning on a large table that sat in the middle of the tent. It had a large map of the region laid out on it, with numerous plastic pieces dotted all over it. The rest of the tent was surprisingly empty. There were a couple of radio stations, one at either side of the table. A few round wooden tables with matching chairs placed between him and the faunus. The only other noticeable feature, besides the lack of bodyguards around the commander was a closed off section of the tent. Probably leading off to the commanders sleeping quarters.

Vengeance just stood there in a defensive stance. Ready for a squad of white fang to jump out and grab him.

After about 15 seconds the commander turned to Vengeance saying, "no-one else is here, it's just us". He pushed himself off of the table he was leaning on and slowly made his way to one of the chairs. "I know why you're here, and what you plan to do". The faunus said as he sat down, he pointed to one of the chairs at the table. Offering Vengeance a seat. "So let's talk".

Vengeance was almost surprised, the others had all put up a fight. So that's what vengeance was expecting. Not expecting to be offered a simple conversation. He might even goes as far as to say that he felt a bit let down by the faunus. But at least it would probably make the information retrieval easier. So Vengeance half accepted the offer, instead choosing to sit on a nearby table and crossed his arms.

Upon seeing him take a seat the faunus continued. "I've been in the white fang since the start, back when we were something to be proud of. But it wasn't working, we weren't getting anywhere. I was planning on leaving until that night, what we did was unforgiveable. But it showed us a new way, gave us new opportunities. And it was working, we were finally being listened too. So I stayed, for the good of all faunus. If I had to sacrifice my soul to gain the equality we deserved, then so be it. But I never forgave myself for what happened that night. The three of you never deserved what we did. Despite what we achieved because of it. We had just presumed that you died in the woods, eaten by grimm or starved to death. We had made our point, finished our show so we didn't care. What could you do anyway? How wrong we were."

"Then the reports started coming in, and I knew it was you. Maybe it was my guilty conscience speaking, but I knew. So I hid away, training more men, building bigger defences. Hoping to keep you away. And yet here you are…" The faunus turned to look right at Vengeance, "so why am I still alive?"

"I need information", vengeance responded in an unusually neutral tone.

"Well I suppose I owe you that much, but I'm afraid I can't tell you much about the two of them. They've become less communicative, I'm not sure anyone knows exactly where they are. Just they are working on something big. I'm sor..."

"What about the girl?" Vengeance quickly cut in, refusing to leave with nothing.

The faunus blinked a couple of times, seemingly shocked by his interjection. "You can't be serious, she was so young".

Vengeance just stared at him as a response.

The commander looked down at the table, "You're a monster".

"And whose fault is that?" He spat out in reply.

"That's a fair point." The faunus let out a long sigh as he looked back up at Vengeance. "She left, four months ago. From what we know she's now a student at beacon. Our leader was always fond of her, whatever he's doing it's too try and get her back. You don't have to kill her".

"I'll be the judge of that, is that all you have?" he said as he stood up. The white fang commander only nodded in response.

Walking towards the commander he reached behind his back and drew his favourite blade, a long tanto called executioner. It was his favourite because it was only ever unsheathed it for the people on his list, and drawing it meant he was one step closer to his goal.

The knife had a smooth wooden handle and scabbard that were coloured black and had shiny finish. The only personal touch that adorned the knife is an etching on the blade done in the usual red dust technique. It read, "The bane of the guilty". The quote started and finished with his personal symbol, the 12 pointed circle. Vengeance never cleaned the blood off of the blade so its blade was dyed red.

Upon seeing the blade the faunus closed his eyes and said, "I don't regret what we did. But for what it's worth I'm sorry it happened to you".

Standing behind the faunus he placed an armoured hand on his forehead and raised the blade to his throat. "I don't care." Vengeance said as he slit the man's throat. He purposefully cut far deeper than he had on the others, causing faunus to lose consciousness in just a few seconds.

Vengeance stared at the knife for a moment, mesmerised by the movement of the blood of its mostly silver blade. Coming to his senses he raised his left arm and brought the knife to it. Channelling come of his red dust onto the blade he cut a long straight slash through the name of the commander. Who was currently gargling away his last breaths as his lungs filled with blood.

Satisfied he sheathed executioner and strolled outside.

As he left the tent he was met with the sight of Oswald and the horde of summons that had now completed their tasks.

With a single thought the beowolves dissipated into a blue mist. He was about to do the same before Oswald stopped him. "We're going to need them". His partner answered his question before he had a chance to ask it. "There is a fully functioning bullhead in the west of the camp as well as several crates of weapons and ammo, and a couple of SDC shipping containers. And seeing as there previous owners are now all dead I say that they belong to us. We can drop the dust off at our warehouse and sell the weapons and bullhead to one of our contacts in Vale. Roman Torchwick is probably our best bet".

"How did you know we were going to Vale?" It was the only reply he could think of, Oswald was always much better with businessy stuff.

"Because I heard him say it", Oswald responded in his usual snarky tone, before turning to move towards the bullhead. Before Oswald got on he turned his head and said in a slightly disgusted tone, "You're ability to make a bloody mess of almost anything never fails to both surprise and slightly horrify me."

Vengeance let a small chuckle of pride at the attempted insult that he took as a compliment. Before boarding the bullhead he looked down at the three readable names left on his list. Adam Taurus, Lieutenant maine with the last name belonging to his next target.

Blake Belladonna.

* * *

 **A/N: The Blake thing was kind of meant to be a surprise but I feel like I made it just a bit too obvious, and I have no doubt that quite a few of you will already be able to guess a bit of my trio's back story. But I'll just have to wait and see. And before people say I know that some of the names for things are unimaginative or maybe childish but I swear that there is a reason behind that. Also this is as gory as the fic is going to get. And it won't get gory that often, or at least as far as I have planned it.**

 **As far as updates go, I can't promise a consistent update schedule. Mainly due to a mix of laziness and depression, WOOO. But I will try and keep the updates regular and consistent.**

 **Also please leave a review if possible, any feedback is greatly appreciated.**

 **Sharknado out.** I hate myself for saying that.


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